My written past
by dreamcatcher shadow
Summary: Who would've thought that a simple journal would rekindle such a strong brotherhood that was broken and forgotten so many years ago. My first Hetalia fic! Hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1:Bitter memories

Hello everyone.

**Before you read this fic**, there are a few things you should know. One, yes, I do love Hetalia and I've watched a bunch of episodes. But I didn't watch all of them or read the manga, so if this story sounds like I'm an amateur Hetalia fan, it's because I am, so I'm sorry if I'm not following some sort of storyline, but let's face it, Hetalia is just randomness between countries, lol. Second of all, the characters might be a little OOC sometimes. The only thing out of character is Alfred acting a bit more serious and unconfident, and Arthur acting like a total dick sometimes (well, even more than usual, lol). I'm sorry if I offend any Arthur or Alfred fans out there with this. Truth is I really love them both, but if it sounds like I'm insulting them, I'm really sorry. I hope you enjoy!

I don't own Hetalia

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Chapter 1: Bitter memories

I sat at the edge of the battlefield, recalling all the blood that was spilled and the lives that were taken. The blurs of red coats and blue coats clashed against each other in a deadly brawl to the death. I remember Britain staring at me across the grounds, eyeing at me deathly for 'betraying' and 'leaving' him. As much as I wanted to run into his arms again, loving on each other like good brothers would, I knew it was all too late for that. I've made my decision to stand for the country I was always destined to represent. And I couldn't do that without battling him first. I was young. I was naïve and scared, but I knew what was right, and fighting for these poor people for their freedom from harsh British rule was the right thing.

Before I knew it, my men were able to take down most of Britain's soldiers. Britain stood across from me, looking at me desperately now, knowing that he was losing. I glare at him, my anger for all that he did to control my entire life and what he did to the British colony now rising inside me like lava. These poor people, who were falling into poverty due to taxes, weren't the only one who was struggling under Britain. I never planned to kill Britain, because he was a country and can't die, and even if he could I would never had the heart to, but I could make him admit defeat and grant my people what they want. I never wanted to hurt him, but he's leaving me no choice.

"Hey, Britain!" I shouted, "All I want is my freedom! I'm no longer a child, nor your little brother, from now on, consider me independent!" He looked like he was about to break down, but then his face changed into a furious one when he charged at me. I gasp and hold my gun up to the place he tried to strike me with the sharp dagger of his own musket. I managed to protect myself, but he flung my weapon out of my grasp. He was panting angrily, aiming at my head. He had a perfect shot. I was supposed to be a country too, but I wasn't one just yet, so he could kill me if he wanted to.

"I won't allow it! You idiot! Why can't you see anything through to the end?!" he yelled. My heart pounded, for a minute, I thought he was actually going to do it. I prepared to a blow to the head.

But instead, his gun slowly lowered. I looked at him. There were tears rolling down his face.

"There's no way I can shoot you, I can't." he said, his voice cracking from sobs. He then threw his gun to the ground, falling to his knees and started to break down infront of me. His shoulders shook as each sob tore through him.

"Why?! Dammit, why?! It's not fair!" he cried, covering his face with his hand. I looked at him, my eyes burning. But I held strong and swallowed the tears back.

"You know why." I said softly, watching him fall apart.

"What happened? I remember when you were great." I asked.

It was true, he used to be so great, so wonderful, and then he just….changed.

And now today, as I look out of the old battle grounds, I take out an extremely old and really thick journal that had a British Flag pendant on the lock of it. I had this ever since England came back when I grew into a teenager. He gave it to me as a gift for being gone so long. Needless to say, I definitely used it. But instead of saying 'dear journal' and only used it for venting emotions like some people did, I decided to do something different and made it a book about my life hardships instead. The most memorable, difficult, and heartbreaking times of my life, for my eyes only of course. It would be embarrassing if someone else had their eyes on this. I always read it whenever I felt either nostalgic or crummy. In a way, letting it out through these pages made me feel better, and reading about them later always helped whenever I needed comfort. I skimmed through a few pages until I landed on a random page.

"_He speaks my name, do I dream again, for now I find…." His loving and smooth voice singing to me when I was tiny, it always lulled me to sleep. His arms were so warm and welcoming as he swayed back and forth in a calming gesture to help me get sleepy. _

_He always had to go out to war. It made me devastated to see him go, but I always understood why he did. I was worried for how long he would be gone. I knew he would never die since he couldn't. But he was gone for so long, and my heart ached for his kind love and protection._

_I was always left by myself when he was gone. I basically had to raise myself because he was gone so much, teach myself right from wrong. It was so scary growing up alone. I had to survive by myself when he wasn't here. I wished so much for someone to be there, to talk to. Oh sure, I had friends, but I really wanted someone there, all the time, not just visiting me on random occasions. I wanted someone who I could talk about dealing with strange emotions, ask questions, and basically advise me on how to act or treat people, but no, I had to take care of that myself most of the time._

_I guess that's why when I grew older I became such an ignorant idiot, but what else was I supposed to do? But when he came home, seeing him hurt always killed me inside, and yet, no matter how badly he was hurt, I was so happy to see him. They were the happiest times of my life. He spoiled me with new toys and took great care of me. I could never ask for a better life, despite that he had to go sometimes, I always knew he loved me. _

_The reason why I choose him was seeing him cry when France was trying to win me over. He thought he lost, but I felt so bad for him. When I called him my big brother, he began to cry, as if I struck a sensitive nerve. Yes, I was young, but I wasn't completely oblivious. And after he became my brother, I learned how horribly his own brothers treated him. I was so glad that I could make him happy by being his little brother._

_Then one day, when he came back after such a long period of time, I grew into a teenager. My language began to change. I began to call everyone 'dude', or 'man', and was using a lot of new slang. But I wasn't the only one who changed. _

_I understood that once I became older I would have to act more mature and take on more responsibilities, but Britain just acted more like a drill sergeant than he did a loving brother anymore. He began to control everything that I did. It drove me into a depression. This wasn't the loving brother I remembered._

_How I should dress…_

"_Hey, what's with the suit?" I asked, looking at the fancy suit Britain bought me, "It looks expensive. Too bad, I'll never wear it." I said. I wasn't into dressing that proper, and I wanted to dress comfortably. British clothes were way too stuffy and tight. It wasn't like I ungrateful for Britain buying it for me, but he never asked what I wanted to wear. Britain frowned disappointingly at me._

"_You should. Dressing like some pauper isn't in fashion. I refuse to be seen with you if you're not dressed properly." He said. Ouch, was I that embarrassing to be seen with? None of the less, I put it on. I wanted to make Britain proud, so I was willing to do what he wanted. It was the least I could do after what he did to raise me. _

_What I should eat…_

"_I have never seen anyone eat as much beef as you! You have any idea how unhealthy it is for you?" he sighed tiredly, pinching his brow as he watched me eat my third helping of the meaty dinner I made for myself. I just smile at him._

"_It's good! And it's full of protein! Why don't you try it?" I asked. He snorted and shook his head._

"_Honestly America, you should eat real British cuisine, not this heart attack on platter. It's no wonder you've been looking so chubby lately. Honestly, it's unappealing. Please, throw it out." He said. I sighed sadly to myself. I ate nothing but British food, and as tasteless as it was, I always ate it. I wanted something different. _

_But I stood up and threw it all away, deciding to eat fish and chips instead. I knew that he was just caring for my health, and I wanted to make him happy. He smiled at me._

"_That's my boy." He said, making me smile again. But it didn't last for long_

_What I should do in my free time…_

"_America, you get in the house this instant! There's still work to be done!" Britain snapped as he woke me up from my nap under my favorite tree in our backyard. I startled awake, groaning and looking up desperately at him._

"_Britain, I spent hours cleaning the attic and the kitchen. I was just taking a little break." I said. He gave me an angry, motherly look._

"_You've been asleep for almost two hours! You have to help me with the rest of house! And don't think I haven't noticed you neglecting your studies lately! As soon as we're done, you're spending the rest of the night in your room doing nothing but studying! Until those grades are up, you'll spend every day and night studying, understand?" he said in a demanding tone. I wasn't doing badly in school. I was actually in the average range, but no, that wasn't enough for Britain. He wanted his little brother to get nothing but all A's. _

_But I knew that he only saw a lot of potential in me, and knew I could do better and put forth more effort. Besides, getting fantastic grades and studying hard will make me smart enough to run my country right. So I sucked it up and stood up._

"_Okay, Britain. I understand." I said as I followed him back to the house to help him clean the rest of it. _

_Who I should hang out with…_

"_Go long fellas!" I shouted to some of my school mates as I hit the ball with the giant stick. We were playing a new game I came up with; hopefully it will become big one day. I called it 'baseball.' We were having a grand time, until I heard a familiar, pissed off voice shouting at me. _

"_Alfred Foster Jones! You get over here, RIGHT NOW!" Britain yelled as he saw me playing in the field._

"_Uh oh, someone's in trouble." Snickered one of the guys I was hanging out with. I glare at him before running to Britain. He didn't use my human name unless I really was in deep trouble, so I felt fear knot up tightly in my stomach as I approached him. He did not look happy, at all. _

"_What is it, Britain?" I asked innocently. I was just playing a game with my friends, why was he mad? _

"_What in the world do you think you're doing?!" he snapped. I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly._

"_Uh…playing a game with my friends?" I said hesitatingly. He growled._

"_You call this horsing around playing?! I call it acting like a mad man and getting absolutely filthy! A true gentleman doesn't act like this! It's so embarrassing! You should know better!" he said, smacking me upside my head. I felt my face redden up in embarrassment as I look down shamefully. I noticed that the suit he bought for me was covered in dirt and grass stains._

"_Look at what you did to your clothes! Do you have any idea how much those cost?!" he snarled. In my mind, I told him that I wouldn't have gotten my suit dirty if he allowed me to wear the comfortable clothes I wanted to wear in the first place, but I knew I would just get smacked for it again. I just looked down in guilt._

"_I'm sorry." I said softly and sincerely. He just sighed and shook his head._

"_Come on, we're going home." He said, pulling on my arm to follow him. I looked back at my confused school mates I was playing with._

"_Wait! My friends!" I cried. I had to tell them that I couldn't play anymore._

"_You're not having those delinquents as your friends, America! You should be friends with people who actually have manners! Maybe they would rub off on you and you'll finally start to act right! Honestly, what if someone caught you goofing off like this?! Do you know how degrading you would look?! How _I_ would look?!" Britain growled as he pulled on my arm again._

_I ignored the fact that it seemed like he cared more about his image then he did my own. I refused to believe that Britain was starting to take over my life. I tried with all my might to hang onto the memories of him being so loving and understanding. Nowadays, it was like he forgot who he was. But I knew, I just knew he was still down there somewhere. And by God, I'm not giving up until I bring that out of him again! I can't give up on him! I won't! Not ever! I love him too much!_

_And finally…how to run my own country…_


	2. Chapter 2:A war between brothers

**Another warning**: This chapter's going to have a lot of angst, history, and a really mean Arthur! I really hope I got it as historically correct as possible. If I made a mistake or forgot to include something, please, let me know in the most polite way you can! The last thing I want is to do is insult history or my country as well as others. Believe me, soldiers in the army have my deepest respect for what they fight and die for, and the last thing I want to do is to dishonor that if I'm wrong. And if you can't handle Arthur being _really_ mean to Alfred in this chappie, then I assure you that you don't have to read it. He'll get nice in the end, promise. I hope you enjoy!

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_Chapter 2: A war between brothers_

_All of this madness started when Britain's new ruler decided to change faiths and beliefs of the church, and forced everyone to either follow it or be painfully persecuted. It wasn't right. I believed people should believe in what they want. They were their own people. They had a right to their well-being and opinions. It was like Britain was trying to control them….just like he tried to control me. _

_Then one day, a group of people who wanted to go against the church's beliefs were being sent away from Britain and to the new world Britain's people have discovered years ago. I knew it was the place I would one day represent and rule over. _

"_Britain, you can't do this! You can't force people out of their homeland! It's not right!" I pleaded to him, hoping he would listen. But instead, he just frowned angrily at me._

"_Yes, I can America! We have laws here! And if they don't follow the church's beliefs, then they should be somewhere else! Besides, I never really forced them, yes, I wanted them gone, and when I asked if they could leave they accepted it! They can believe in whatever the hell they want in the new world, just as long as they don't corrupt the minds of my people!" he snapped at me. _

"_You weren't giving them a choice! If they stayed here, then they would be imprisoned, beaten, or even killed just for their beliefs! You would want to leave too, wouldn't you?" I asked, feeling hurt and confused why Britain would do this to his own people._

"_It's their own damn fault for going against the church! They have to follow our king's ways! If not, they will face the consequences!" he said cruelly. This couldn't be the same Britain who raised me._

"_What do you hope will happen to them? That they'll manage their ways and come back?" I asked. He sighed and looked at me. _

"_America, what I plan to do is hopefully change their minds. You are going to rule over them one day when you're old enough to be your own country. With the way I've raised you what's right and wrong, you can convince them to follow the British way once again." He said. _

_So that's why he was controlling me, that way when I become my own country, I'll make people follow his ways. God, why did that hurt so much?_

"_You will do that for me…won't you?" he asked with a smile and a raised brow. As much as my brain was screaming at me that this was wrong, my heart reminded me that he sacrificed so much to raise and provide for me. I…I had to make him proud, didn't I? Wasn't it still the least I can do?_

"…_Okay, Britain, I'll do my best to lead them." I said, now beaten. I can't believe I had to do this._

* * *

_Sooner or later, the people in the new world were now facing danger. France still wanted some of the land Britain wanted for himself. And worse, France managed to get some allies with the natives of the land to help fight for it and claim partial ownership of me. Britain sent in his best troops to fight to protect the colonies and for the land that both he and France wanted to claim. The colonies, in return, helped the redcoats fight the French and Indians. And fortunately, Britain eventually won and claimed more territory for the British._

_Unfortunately, the war was very costly, meaning that the king saw fit to tax everyone to help pay for it, even the colonies, who he sent away and wanted to disown from the start, and who even helped fight in the war! It wasn't fair! The colonies shouldn't be the ones being taxed! The French and Indian war was just another competition between France and Britain like it always was! Just because they can't learn to get along, doesn't mean others should pay the price!_

"_Britain, they helped with the war! It's not their fault that France wanted the land you wanted!" I tried to convince him. _

"_We spent a lot of money protecting them! They have to pay for it too! It's the least they can do!" Britain snarled. _

"_But you could've let me protect them instead! I could've fought France and those Indians off by myself and protect them! I represent them!" I said desperately._

"_No, America! I know you're strong, but not strong enough to actually battle a country's army! You're not ready yet!" Britain said._

"_If I can lift a freaking bison off the ground and swing it around like it's a toy when I was a baby, I'm sure I could've handled France and the natives!" I cried._

"_That's different! War against a nation is not about strength, it's also about how well you know the enemy and how you could outsmart them! Besides, the colonies are still a part of Britain anyway, and anyone a part of Britain has to pay the tax, like it or not!" Britain snapped._

"_But you wanted them gone! I thought these were people who should be sent somewhere else, and now you're telling me that they are still a part of Britain?!" I asked in confusion._

"_It's an entirely different thing, America! Yes, they still are a part of Britain, but they were sent away so they wouldn't corrupt my people's minds, I thought I told you that! Do you even listen to me?!" he asked harshly. I couldn't believe this! This wouldn't be an issue if Britain didn't send people away from the start!_

"_Listen, my king knows what he's doing. This entire issue will blow over, I promise. And once it has, once the war has been paid for, you can finally be your own country. Okay?" he said, more gently this time. I sighed. I wanted to argue over the subject more, but I knew I had to trust Britain. He was the one who raised me and knew what was right. What choice did I have?_

"_Okay." I said. He grinned and patted me on the shoulder._

"_Good lad." He said before he turned to his study to count all the taxes he collected._

* * *

_But the issue didn't blow over. It just got worse. Britain's oh so proud and righteous king thought it was a good idea to help pay for the war more quickly by raising the taxes in the colonies. The colonies then began to grow angrier and more rebellious. Quite a few couldn't buy their needed resources anymore because they couldn't afford them with so much tax. _

_Whenever I visited them, they were begging for my help. They knew I was going to be their country and begged me to help rebel against Britain. They begged and pleaded so heart-wrenchingly that their voices and pleas filled my head and haunted me in my dreams. They even did everything in their power to convince me of how rebelling would make things so much better, and hell, they had very damn good reasons! As much as it hurt me, so freaking badly, to turn these poor people away, I refused. I could never dream of leaving or fighting Britain. What kind of little brother would I be if I did? It won't be long now, the war will eventually be paid for and these people wouldn't have to worry about taxes anymore. And I can be my own country. I can show these people fairness and make them happy._

_Little did I know that I wasn't given any other choice in the matter. Because now, the colonies refused to pay for the taxes and rebelled against Britain in any way they could. It just made Britain angrier to the point where he sent out strict laws against the colonies. He controlled their trades, their purchases on goods, everything. But that didn't stop the colonies from rebelling. _

"_Those damn, stupid wankers! They will be punished by the fullest extent of British law if they refuse to pay the tax!" Britain growled as he looked at all the reports of the colonies. I sat quietly in the chair across from his desk. I had to voice my opinion about it._

"_Britain, how about this, I can become my own country now, and be able to make a deal with the colonies to help pay Britain that they can agree with? That way, everyone wins." I offered. Britain growled._

"_No! The war needs to be paid for, doing that will take far too long! Besides, it's clear you're still not ready to be your own country! You just offered me YOUR way of paying for the war's debt instead of doing it the KING'S way! They will pay the current tax right now and stop acting like a bunch of idiots, or I will continue to raise the tax and other further punishments!" he snapped. I couldn't take it anymore. This has gone on long enough! Time to be a man!_

"_Then you have just sentenced my people to poverty! There's no way some of them can afford these taxes! You're being completely unreasonable!" I finally snap at him back. Took him by surprise at first, seeing how I never got snippy with him before until now, but that was a big mistake apparently, because I never seen him so pissed off after that moment._

"_YOUR PEOPLE?! THEY ARE MY PEOPLE, ALFRED! DON'T YOU DARE THINK THAT YOU ARE EQUAL TO ME!" he yelled as he got up from his desk and grabbed a fistful of my hair to look at him, jerking it violently and making me cry out in pain. I glared at him._

"_They are on the land I will rule one day! Yes, they are my people now, Britain! How can you call them yours when you could care less about them to begin with?! You're the one who sent them away!" I shouted back, my nerve and patience with him finally breaking. _

"_THEY ARE NOT YOUR PEOPLE! THEY ARE MINE! AND YOU, YOU ARE MINE! UNDERSTAND?! YOU ARE BRITISH PROPERTY, NOW AND FOREVER! NEVER FORGET WHO YOU BELONG TO!" he practically screamed in my face. I winced in pain, wanting to let the tears fall down my face at what he said to me, but I held back, looking at him fearfully._

"_Yes…Britain." I managed to choke out. He glared furiously at me. _

"_Don't you dare ever go against me and my ways again! Tell me who you belong to!" he demanded. I shook violently, but he didn't seem to notice._

"_I…I belong to you!" I cry out, wanting to be released. I lost all hope in trying to find the same Britain who had a big heart. Because this one wasn't him anymore. This one was corrupted and brainwashed by his unfaltering king. I heard countries' personalities can change depending on who is the ruler at the time, but I never thought Britain would turn into this…monster._

"_When you become a country, you will follow what I say or face consequences, understand?" he hissed. I nodded, now fearing him. _

"_Everyone will learn to never mess with the British Empire. My rule will grow and conquer over those who oppose me! You better get your head out of the gutter and do what you're told!" he snapped at me before he finally released his strong grip on my hair. I gently rubbed at my sore scalp after having it pulled. He gave me one last warning look._

"_Go to bed, no supper. This is your punishment." He said pointing at the door. I quickly got out of the chair I was sitting in and ran down the hall, slamming my bedroom door shut. I collapse onto my bed and let out the sobs I've been holding in during that time. Why? Why did he change so much?_

_At that moment, after going through all of Britain's actions in my head I finally realized it. I wasn't Britain's little brother that he loved and cared for anymore. Now, I was just property to him. I was just land for his empire. This wasn't about caring for his little brother, this was only about him and his damn pride! He was just using me to rule! _

_Did he even love me anymore?!_

_I knew what I had to do. What everyone was begging me to do. I knew what was right, no matter what Britain tried to cram into my head. I had to do it. I had to declare war on him. A war for freedom and independence, for others who deserve it and who would bravely fight, and sacrifice their lives for it. He'll hate me for it, but didn't he hate me already? Because he sure acted like he could care less. _


	3. Chapter 3:The last page

Warning: another chappie with Arthur acting like a dick. I'm sorry Arthur fans. Last time, I promise. A little OOC in this chappie as well

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Chapter 3: The last page

I sigh in sadness as I read everything over. This was all written before my final battle with Britain. I thought that he didn't care anymore, but clearly, he proved me wrong when he couldn't shoot me and started crying. Now, I felt unbelievably guilty for leaving him, even though I had an excuse to. My mind wonders to what would happen if I never rebelled in the first place. Would Britain and I be on better terms today? Hell, we barely tolerate each other most of the time. And other times he's insulting my battle plans or choking me when I insult his scones in retort. I think that's what you call still bitter enemies. The only thing we do nice for each other is not try to kill each other.

I realize that I had one page left that I haven't written on yet. Well, I might as well finish it off. I take out a pen I had in my carrier sack and write down what's on my mind and put the current date on top of the page.

_I don't know what else to do. I thought what I did was right. I thought that maybe Britain would either realize the wrong he was doing and we can make up, or that he would eventually let it go through time, and maybe realize that because of him, he's created a very powerful nation and finally be proud of me. Neither has happened. So, I give up. I can't rekindle the relationship we had. Oh, sure, he offered to be my friend a few times, but those were times when he either wanted to humiliate me or when he pitied me because I didn't have many friends. I didn't want it to be like that. I want him to respect me. I wanted him to finally see me as an equal. But he doesn't. He just sees a loud idiot who eats too much and has no clue what to do. Besides, how can I be friends with someone who constantly insults me?_

_The only thing I have left of him is the good memories of us before he became corrupt with power, and the gifts he gave me, including this journal. There are times I wished I never went against him, but what good would that do? My people would still be unhappy, and they would still beg and plead for my help in such a way that it kills me inside. And there are times I wished I could've helped him. I wished I could've shown him how much he was hurting people….and how much he was hurting me. My heart still breaks when my mind replays his voice, shouting at me that I was just British property, and that I belonged to him. _

_What he doesn't know is that I missed him, and loved and cared about him very much to this day, and I always will. Hell, I can barely clean out my storage room full of the stuff he gave me without wanting to break down into tears. I know I act like the cheerful, clueless moron most of the time, but I keep thinking if I acted happy, maybe I can fool myself into actually believing I am. But I'm not. I really am the biggest idiot of the world. I'm no hero._

I stop when I feel tears gathering in my eyes. I took in a few shaky breaths as I take off Texas and wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my bomber jacket. I think I wrote enough for a while. I put my journal and pen back into the little carrier sack. I continued to look at the old battlefields depressingly until I hear a voice.

"America?" came a British accent. Oh crud, not him, not here! This is the place where we battled each other! Of all places for him to meet up with me, why did it have to be here?!

None-of-the-less, I faked a cheery smile and turn to him.

"Britain! Wassup dude?!" I said, trying to clear my voice of all the sadness. He scowled at me, his usual expression when he saw me, and sighed.

"Will you please stop butchering my language?! What are you doing here?" he asked, crossing his arms. I raised a brow and shrugged.

"I..uh, felt like coming here?" I answered questionably.

"You do realize where you're standing, right?" he asked. I nodded.

"Of course I do." I said. I hear him let out a scoff and then he glared at me.

"Of course, how could you ever forget?! The battle grounds where you acted like a spoiled brat and went against the person who took care of you!" he snapped before calming himself back down. I fought down the hurt from those words.

"Well…what are you doing here?" I asked.

"I was taking a walk through memory lane. Of course, I never thought I see you here today." He said lowly, turning his gaze away from me.

"Britain…" I said, feeling that the time was right, "Will you please let me explain why I had to do it? Please?" I asked. He glared coldly at me again.

"You don't need to tell me because I already know! You're nothing but a selfish wanker who doesn't consider anyone else's feelings! You have any idea how much you hurt me?! Do you?! I raised you! I loved and protected you!" he yelled. I winced. Damn it, he will never let me explain. Every time I bring up why I revolted against him, he gets like this.

"You know, if it wasn't for me, you would've never had got as far as you have! Hell, I don't know how you even got this far! You're such a bumbling idiot that I never thought you were capable of doing anything right!" he shouted, his face turning red from anger. I felt my heart shatter into pieces at that. Is…Is that how he really thought of me?

"Iggy, please-" I begged him.

"Stop with that stupid nickname! You got what you wanted, so I hope you're happy! Even though you don't deserve to be! You bloody git!" he shouted one last time before panting in anger. I swallowed thickly, feeling my throat tighten painfully as I fought back the tears. I looked at him, narrowing my eyes seriously.

"….Fine, I'm going if that's what you want me to do. Clearly, you have more of a right to be here than I do." I said as I turned as quickly as I could before the tears spilled over and ran from the place. I didn't notice how careless that action was, because something slipped out of my carrier sack, and I didn't realize it until I got home.

* * *

As soon as I got home. I sat my carrier sack down and was about to pull out my journal, only to find it not there.

"…Oh my god, please don't tell me." I said nervously to myself as I took the bag and shook out everything that was in it. Multiple McDonald's wrappers fell from it as well as some files I had to work on, but no journal.

It felt like my entire body froze when I realized that it must have fallen out near the battlegrounds. I've checked my car, all over my house, but no journal. It had to be there!

I speed down the road until I reached the grounds again. I retraced every step, looking for a brown book with that British flag pendant, but found nothing. I even looked all over the battlegrounds, and I've searched for hours until it was getting dark out, but alas, no journal. Everything that I wrote from a long time ago was all gone. All my hard work, my memories, all gone. I felt like crying. As a matter of fact….

I sunk to my knees and put a hand to my face, letting the tears fall as sobs shook my shoulders violently. Oh god, I bet I looked so much like Britain on that day. I also bet he would've loved to see me succumb to this state. It would be victory for him.

Wait a second….Britain!

He was here with me before it went missing! Did he find it and take it? He must have! This place was abandoned so no one else could've seen it and taken it! And it fell out of my sack when I ran from him! We were the only people there! He must've found it and picked it up!

Oh no, what if he reads it?!

My mind pictured Britain reading it right now. He was either laughing his ass off at how pathetic I sounded and was gloating in victory for discovering it, and showing it to other countries to embarrass me, or he was even angrier than he ever was before and ripping and tearing apart pages, then giving it back to me to say that he was the one who was right all along, and I was just the idiot I always had been.

Damn it! I couldn't call or come over to ask him if he had it and to give it back! That would be embarrassing! Not after the way he was speaking to me today! I can't believe it, I was completely terrified! Besides, who's to say that he would ever give it back to me? Hell, right now, I bet he's showing it to other countries, like the allies!

I hung my head in defeat. There was nothing else I could do. Britain won. He can finally say that he managed to break the mighty America. Now, he can finally have his revenge. And maybe, it was best to let him have it.


	4. Chapter 4:A new start

Prepare thyself for some extreme corniness and heart-warming scenes near the end! I hope ya'll enjoyed the story!

* * *

Chapter 4: A new start

*time skip to the next world meeting*

As much as I didn't want to go to the next world meeting, fearing that Britain was going to humiliate me with my journal, I just wanted to get it over with. I arrived early due to me not being able to sleep last night with worries. Why bother being late or not show up at all just to have Germany yell at me for the millionth time and have it even more demeaning?

To my surprise, I was so early Britain wasn't even here yet. I was one of the first ones. It was just me, Japan, Germany, France, and Italy. I came in while Italy was complaining about waking up so early and how he was tired, and Germany scolding at him, saying that next time if he didn't want to get up so early then he shouldn't sneak into Germany's bed in the middle of the night anymore.

"Amerique, you are here rather early today, oui?" France asked. I sighed.

"Couldn't sleep last night." I answered nervously. It won't be long now before Britain shows up. Japan looked at me, confused.

"Are you aright America-san? It rooks rike you have just seen a ghost. Did you watch a scary movie rast night?" he asked in his usual cool manner. Japan knew I had such a weak spot for scary movies. I shook my head.

"Nah, dude,….I just have a lot on my mind. I'm fine, really." I said. Japan nodded and went back to organizing his paperwork, which I thought was best if I did the same, to calm my nerves and help me get my mind off it. My shaking hands fiddled with my finished file reports. Hard to believe I actually got them done. I was all worked up with anxiety last night that I had to do something to get my mind off it. Video games and movies only went so far. I had to really work my brain.

The more time passed, the more anxious I got. I knew Britain would be here any minute. Apparently I looked so out of my character that even _Germany_ was looking at me worriedly.

"America, veally, are you alvight?" he asked. I faked a cheery smile and nodded.

"What's with everyone asking if I'm alright? I'm just fine! Don't worry!" I said with fake happiness in my tone.

"Well, considering that you're a terrible liar, I would want to know what's wrong too." Came Britain's voice from behind me at the entrance. I stiffened. Oh crap! When did he get here?!

I did everything I could to avoid looking at him. Who knows, maybe he didn't take it. Maybe it was taken by someone else. But you know how you get that feeling in your gut when something is up? Well, this felt like a strong gut feeling to me.

To make things worse, I hear his footsteps coming closer to me. I got more nervous as he came closer, so nervous that I began to visibly shake. I can't believe I was scared of my former brother, who was shorter and smaller than me! Finally, he was standing right next to the chair I was sitting in. I felt like I was going to throw up right then and there.

"America." He said, actually very softly. But I still gasped loudly and jumped, my twitching hands making my files fly all over the desk in front of me. My heart pounded as I looked at him. I expected to see an angry look or cruel smirk on his face, but instead, I found myself surprised when he looked at me with saddened, gentle eyes that didn't mean me any kind of harm. I tried to get my voice to work.

"Uh…yes?" I managed to squeak out. I didn't care if it sounded humiliating. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out what confirmed my beliefs. It was my large journal with the pendant. And it looked like he didn't harm it in anyway.

"You dropped this." He said, his voice still gentle and harmless. I took it hesitatingly, feeling relief that he didn't hurt it and that it wasn't lost anymore…but what was he going to do now?

"Uh…T-Thank you." I said, using all my will power to smile. He smiled back, and this time, it looked kind and sincere, like he used to when I was small. I haven't seen that smile for so long that I felt like I was going to cry.

I flinched when he suddenly put a calming hand to my back and leaned down to whisper to me.

"When the meeting is done, I'd like to have a word with you, if that's alright. I need to talk to you." He whispered in my ear. I felt my heart pound once more. So he did read it, I knew that he did. Was he angry? Well, it didn't seem like it, but what if this sudden kindness was just a mask because he didn't want to look un-gentleman like infront of Germany and everyone?

"Um, sure, that'll be fine." I answered. Britain smiled at me once more, patted me on the back a bit, and took his seat at the table.

* * *

For the rest of the meeting, I kept looking back and forth between Germany's speech, my journal, and over at Britain. Every time I caught a glimpse of him, he would quickly turn his head, as if he'd been staring at me without me looking. Okay, what was he planning to talk about? Was he angry with me or not? I had mixed feelings about looking forward to what he wanted to talk about. In a way, I was anxious to get the meeting done to see what he had to say, but also reluctant, because what if it was something bad?

Finally, the meeting was adjourned. I looked over at Britain, who was standing by the doorway looking at me. He made a gesture with his head to follow him away from everyone else. I nodded, taking everything, and making sure I had a real good hold of my journal before getting up and following him. I felt a million butterflies scraping against my stomach, almost making me double over. So far, so good I guess.

Then, he led me to a small, empty dining room similar to the conference room that the hotel had. I followed him in pursuit and he shut the door behind us. I let my nervous emotions explode right then and there.

"You read it, didn't you? You weren't supposed to see it! No one was! I'm sorry if I made you upset or angry! Please don't try to beat me senseless! That's why you dragged me here, isn't it? So no one will hear me scream or yell out for help!" the words rambled out of my mouth, but it was caught off short when Britain gently grabbed my shoulders, trying to calm me down.

"America, please calm down! I'm not going to hurt you. I said we're just going to talk. Yes, I did read it. That's what I want to talk to you about." He said. I raised a brow.

"Okay, what is it?" I asked. At first he said nothing, but I looked into his eyes, which were looking really glassy as his fuzzy eyebrows furrowed depressingly. I looked at him worriedly.

"Are you oka-"I was cut off short when he suddenly wrapped his arms around me tightly. He held me as if he let go, then I would vanish in thin air. I was a little confused at first, but then I felt his shoulders shaking and heard his gasping breaths as he cried into my shoulder. I got even more worried and hugged him back.

"Britain….what's the matter? Did…Did I upset you with what I wrote?" I asked, now feeling guilty if I did. I never meant to hurt him with it. He wasn't even supposed to read it. He shook his head.

"No, no of course not! You didn't upset me, you opened my eyes! I can't believe I ever did that to you! I was a terrible big brother! I didn't know what I was doing until I read it through_ your_ eyes!" he sobbed, before lifting his head off my shoulder and looking at me, tears rolling down his face. I felt tears gathering in my eyes too, wanting to cry with him. He grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eyes.

"America, I'm so, so sorry for what I did! And for what I said! I truly am! I promised myself and to you that I wouldn't mess up when raising you, and I've broken that! I controlled you, belittled you, left you all alone, and….and made you think that you were only property to me!" he said, crying harder before hugging me again. I let my own tears fall down and cried with him.

"You know that's not true, right? You always meant more to me then just land for me to rule! I loved you so much! And I let you believe that you were nothing but British property! What kind of brother was I?" he sobbed. I shook my head and held him tight.

"You were a great one! Even if you changed, I always remembered what you did for me! And I'm so sorry if I made you feel like I was ungrateful. I completely appreciated what you did for me. I wanted you to know that's not the reason why I had to fight against you for freedom. But I still ended up hurting you! I'm sorry, Britain!" I sob as we held each other.

"No, I don't blame you for leaving. I would've left to. I can't believe I didn't realize what I was doing. What I was becoming! I won't ever do that again, I promise you this time. I'll never again become what I was in the past. And if I ever do, I give you permission to kick my ass." He said shakily running a hand up and down my back soothingly. I laughed a little, wiping away my tears.

"I believe you know better this time," I said, "I'm sorry for saying that I wasn't your little brother anymore. I didn't mean it. You're totally my big brother, and you'll always be. If I ever say that again, feel free to kick _my_ ass. I guess that was my idiotic side taking over me again back then." I said sadly. He made me look at him.

"Alfred Jones, you are not an idiot! Yes, you have idiotic _moments_, but that doesn't make you an idiot! You've accomplished so much without help. Yes, you have your flaws and made mistakes, but every country does. Hell, back then I made a ton of mistakes, and I never realized it. I didn't mean a word of what I said to you on the battlefield. And I should've let you explain it all right from the start. I hope you can forgive me." He said, looking at me with those large green eyes. I smile.

"Totally dude, if…if you can forgive me for all I ever did to hurt you too." I said. He smiled and nodded.

"I guess we both need to get our heads out of our asses." He laughed. I laughed along with him and we shared one last warm hug.

"Aww, so beautiful, oui? I'm so glad that we listened from outside the door!" France gushed as he pushed open the doors. Along with him were a snickering China and a smiling Japan.

"Bloody frog! You were listening in on us?!" Britain snarled as he looked at him deathly. France laughed.

"Ohonhonhon~ we were wondering when you two would finally talk it out. Japan, you owe me a free bottle of fine wine! I told you they would make up before the next century!" he said victoriously. Japan simply rolled his eyes.

"You were even betting on us?! I'll kill you, you damn wanker!" Britain fumed as he chased after France, leaving me to laugh as I watched him and France chase each other.

"Are you okay, America, aru?" China asked as he saw my tear stained face. I nodded and patted him on the shoulder.

"Everything's perfect, China, really." I said as I looked through my journal, thanking it with all my gratitude for all that it did. But as I got to the last page, I saw a little note card I don't remember putting inside. I curiously picked it up. It had Britain's handwriting on it.

_I love you too, little brother, and I always will_

_ ~Britain _

I smiled widely and happily to myself. That strong feeling in my gut was now telling me that from here on out, everything will be just fine.


End file.
